


A Letter From No One

by ignipes



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-04
Updated: 2006-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily Evans receives her Hogwarts letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter From No One

Mrs. Evans heard the sound of the letter box clicking shut. "Lily, will you fetch the post, please?"

"Petunia, fetch the post."

"Lily..." Mrs. Evans looked over her shoulder, frowning.

Lily shoved her chair back from the table and a gave a huge, put-upon sigh as she stomped out of the kitchen. "_Fine_. Why do I always have to do everything?"

"Because Mum said so," Petunia called after her, reaching over and grabbing the red crayon from Lily's pile. "Mum, can we go to the park tomorrow?"

"If it stops raining," Mrs. Evans said. She rinsed a tomato and took a knife from the drawer, then paused to look through the kitchen window. Cold drizzle and mist shrouded the garden; it hardly felt like summer at all. The girls were restless after being stuck inside for so many days.

Lily came back into the kitchen and set a stack of envelopes on the counter. Her forehead was wrinkled in concentration and she was unfolding a letter.

"Lily? What is that?"

"It's for me," Lily said, passing the envelope to her mother.

"Why do _you_ get a letter?" Petunia scowled and scribbled bright red lines across her drawing. "I want a letter."

The parchment was yellowish in color, thick and heavy and fine. Lily's name and address were written in shimmering green ink on the front. There was no stamp.

"May I see the letter?" Mrs. Evans asked, a shiver of worry passing through her.

Lily hesitated. "Mum, I thought I was going to Marchwood School in the autumn."

"You are, dear," Mrs. Evans replied, puzzled. "It's all been arranged. Why?" She set the knife down and wiped her hands on a towel, holding her hand out for the letter.

Lily handed the letter over and looked up at her mother expectantly. "Is it a joke?"

Mrs. Evans read the letter, blinked, and read it again. And again. The handwriting was elegant and bold, the words precise. She brushed her fingers over the seal at the top of the parchment. It was in the same shimmering green ink, with just the slightest oily texture on her fingertips, almost as though the seal was squirming on the paper.

"Mum?"

"Yes," Mrs. Evans said, shaking herself. "It's nothing. Only a joke. Now, both of you, clean up your drawings and wash your hands. It's almost time for supper."

Petunia began gathering up the papers immediately, but Lily didn't move. "But it says--"

"Go on, Lily. It's your turn to set the table." Mrs. Evans folded the letter and slipped it into her pocket. She picked up the knife again and began slicing the tomato, but after a moment she paused, set the knife aside, and reached into her pocket. I'm imagining things, she told herself, staring absently out the kitchen window into the mist. The letter didn't feel slightly warm, she thought. It didn't make her fingers tingle strangely. That was impossible.

"It's nothing," she whispered. "Don't be ridiculous."

But she kept the letter in her pocket. She would toss it in the bin later.


End file.
